


Pixie Landing

by 9r7g5h



Category: Carmilla (Web Series), Carmilla - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, It's gay af with a happy ending, Pixie AU, Supernatural - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-10
Updated: 2016-11-25
Packaged: 2018-05-25 20:55:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6209788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/9r7g5h/pseuds/9r7g5h
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever since she was little, Mircalla knew there were pixies in the world. She just never thought she would love one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Ok, so. I've actually been working on this for a while, and it's mostly done, so I decided to go ahead and post the first chapter. Because why not, you know? Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this! :D
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Carmilla.

She was ten when she first walked through that forest alone, having slipped the watchful stare of her nursemaids and guards for the darkness of the woods. The peace and quiet of the grass and trees appealed to her, luxuries she was rarely allowed in the manor she called home, where tutors demanded her every attention and servants bustled about all hours of the day. Even when alone, in her father’s library or hiding in her mother’s sitting room, Mircalla could hear them all. 

Before, it had only been at night, after the last of her nursemaids tucked her in and opened the window for a fresh breeze, when she could see the stars through the sheer cloth that covered the opening, that she had found silence. Silence in which she could sit and think and breathe, a time she began to crave. 

Even without the stars, Mircalla reveled in her small victory- even just keeping to the paths, where she would be found in minutes should any of the party come look for her, finally being alone was worth the trouble she would be in later. 

“You shouldn’t be here.” 

Mircalla paused, partly annoyed, partly curious, as the voice spoke out. She had thought herself alone- indeed, another quick glance around only confirmed her suspicions. There was nothing besides trees and grass and shrubs and the old dirt road, carved into the earth from generations of her family and their people traveling this very way. 

No one who could have spoken, and yet someone had. 

“Little one,” the voice said again, soft yet clear, as if spoken from a distance, “go home. Home to your maids and your mother, before they worry sick. Or before you become sick with something worse than worry.”

“Who are you,” Mircalla asked after few moments, pushing aside the rising fear and standing tall, like her father had taught, clenching her hands in her dress to stop the trembling. “I am Countess Mircalla of Karnstein, and my father owns this forest. I can do whatever I want, so who are you to tell me otherwise?” 

A laugh was all she got, a laugh and the rustling of some leaves up to her left, high enough on the tree to tower even over her father, the tallest man she had ever met. A tree with no limbs to climb, at least none low enough for someone her size to reach. 

So instead she stomped forward and kicked the truck, again and again, uncaring of the scuffs on her new shoes as she waited for her tormentor to fall. 

“Please stop,” the voice said right beside her ear, startling her back from her target, “and please go home.”

“Not until I get a name,” little Mircalla said angrily, twirling as she tried to catch sight of the speaker. A little voice in her head whispered her to flee, for something able to move quite so quick without being seen was something she shouldn’t be messing with, something no one in the realm of mortals should attempt to tame. 

But she was determined and she was stubborn, and so the little logical piece of her mind was pushed to the side to sate her otherwise curious thoughts. 

“My father owns this forest, owns this land, so I do too! And I demand you give me your name and show yourself at once,” Mircalla repeated, stomping her foot and crossing her arms as she did so. A stubborn child, she flopped down onto the grass below her, ignoring the green stains she could feel seeping into her petticoats as she waited. “Only then will I go home.” 

“You’re a little bit of an annoyance, aren’t you,” the voice said, closer this time, though once again from behind. Biting her lip to keep herself from turning around, lest the creature (for Mircalla was sure it was one; no such man or beast could flee quite so quickly without making a sound, and this one had done it multiple times. So, creature it was) once again make her a fool should she try to look, she sat there, silently, waiting for it to speak. 

“Fine,” Mircalla was finally rewarded, the word said softly and almost with regret. “My name is Laura.” 

“And who is Laura, Laura?” Mircalla asked. “And how do you do what you do?” 

“I do what I do,” Laura said, louder and much clearer, an actual presence coming into being as Mircalla slowly turned to meet her opponent, “because I am who I am, which is Laura.” 

Jumping as a finger tapped upon her shoulder, Mircalla turned as quickly as her clothes sitting down would allow, turning to stare at the creature who stood before her.

“You’re a fairy!” At first only thought to be a creature of the stories, Mircalla couldn’t help but smile widely as the creature before her wrinkled her nose and shook her head, her face scrunched almost into disgust at Mircalla’s words. “A beautiful fairy too!”

Despite her being everything Mircalla had ever dreamed about from her books, from the simple gown of leaves to the pair of almost translucent wings protruding from her back, from the way her feet only just brushed against the ground to the gentle, almost non-existent light rolling gently from her skin, Laura once again shook her head, though this time with a blush. 

“I’m not a fairy,” Laura said, indigent. “I’m a pixie. We’re very different creatures. Get us straight, please, and go home. The forest don’t belong to anyone, much less your father, so go home and don’t come back.” 

“I will, I will,” Mircalla said with her hands thrown up before her, shifting on the ground to get ready to stand. “I promise. But how do I tell the difference, so I do not make that mistake again? Answer that, and I shall go.”

Within the span of a blink, Laura disappeared, leaving behind a faint scent of bark and pines before reappearing, still in the same place, only much, much smaller. 

“Fairies,” Laura said, her voice once again clear but quiet, as if she was not hovering right before her, looking for all the world like a picture of the fire bugs she had seen drawn in one of her tutor’s sketchbooks. “Fairies, for one thing, can’t get big. But pixies can, so we do.” Shifting once more so she was large, Laura settled herself onto the ground across Mircalla, her wings fluttering slightly as she spoke. “Fairies are separate, born into the world to live their lives and die, much like you mortals. Pixies are connected, tied to the earth. I have my own tree, growing just off the edge of the path,” Laura said with a hint of pride, her chin lifting. “So long as it exists, so shall I.”

“May I see it? Oh please, may I?” Pushing herself to her feet, Mircalla brushed off the dirt and bits of grass she could feel prickling her skin through her dress, holding out her hand to the still seated pixie before her. “You can finish telling me about the differences between fairies and pixies as we walk, and then I promise I shall go home. But only if you show me your tree.” 

“Like you promised to go home after I talked to you,” Laura asked with a small laugh, taking the hand and letting herself be pulled off the ground, her wings flapping just enough to get her toes off the grass. Shaking her head, she shrugged after a moment, her body becoming still so she could land. 

Mircalla couldn’t help but smile at the fact they were almost the same height, Laura’s head actually falling just about her chin. Now that she could take a good look, actually examine the pixie before her, was no longer in awe over the fact pixies actually existed outside of the fairytales her mother had stopped reading her a few years ago, it became clear to Mircalla that Laura was young. Perhaps even younger than herself, the rounded cheeks of a baby and soft features of a child present. 

Though, Mircalla reprimanded herself silently, for all she knew, Laura was hundreds of years old, much older than she would ever be. To compare a pixie to a mortal did no one any good, and if the stories were right, she had to take care. 

Laura seemed nice enough, at least at the moment, more than willing to humor her desires, but magical creatures were to be dealt with with caution, lest those dealing with them found themselves meeting a terrible fate in the end. 

“I’ll take you,” Laura finally agreed, nodding her head. “I’ll take you to see my tree, bring you back to the path, and then you have to go home. Promise?” Holding out her hand, looking up just enough so she could meet Mircalla’s gaze, Laura smiled and waited for the girl to respond. 

“If I promise to leave and go home,” Mircalla said slowly, looking down at the hand waiting between them, “can I come back?” 

Laura laughed, reaching out to take Mircalla’s hand, intertwining their fingers as she pulled the countess off the path, into the bramble that lined it. 

“Your father owns this land, does he not?” Laura asked, the tips of her wings brushing against Mircalla’s cheek as she pushed aside the growth to create a path. “If so, then I can’t really make you stay away. Though,” she continued, pausing for a moment, caressing the vine she was holding for a moment before going on, “you’re lucky it’s I who found you. Others aren’t as nice as I am, and a child in the woods all by herself? It’s a humantale in the making.” 

Mircalla followed quickly after her, part of her praising herself for having gotten out of making the promise, the other part focused on how warm Laura’s hand was in hers when she had been expecting…she wasn’t sure what she had been expecting, but not something quite so lovely. 

*

Although she wasn’t surprised, Mircalla was slightly disappointed when Laura came to a halt besides a small sapling, only a few feet tall, the smile that had been on her face their entire walk turning fond as she reached down to brush her fingers against the green sprigs. When Laura turned back to face her, she forced a look of awe to spread, her mind racing as it tried to come up with something, anything, to meet the expected response Laura was obviously waiting for. 

“You’re so small!” 

Her free hand flew to her mouth as Laura pouted at her, tugging the hand she had been holding Mircalla’s with away so she could cross her arms and glare. 

“So?” Laura asked. “I’m just a sapling, only a few years old. I might even be younger then you are- I only remember eight summers, but there could have been more I don’t remember because I was a seedling. But just you watch! In fifty, sixty years I’ll be huge, and in a couple hundred I’ll even be as large as Daddy is.” 

“That’s a long time to watch,” Mircalla said teasingly. “I don’t know if I’ll be around that long.” 

“Then you’ll just have to watch for as long as you can,” Laura said with a nod, turning back to pet her tree again. “I’ll grow up big and strong, and I’ll be here for thousands of years. When your own young come into the forest,” Laura said with a half-smile, glancing over her shoulder, “I’ll be here to welcome them.” 

“I apologize now,” Mircalla said with a straight face, despite the bubble of sadness that had popped into her chest- the idea of Laura outliving her was sad, for some reason. It seemed lonely, being a pixie. “For the trouble my children shall cause you, if they’re anything like me. You’ll have to explain to them the differences between pixies and fairies all over again.” 

“And again, and again, with each new generation,” Laura said, sighing dramatically. “But I guess there could be a worse fate.” 

“That there could be.” 

The two stayed for a long while besides Laura’s tree, until the sun began to dim and the maids could be heard yelling for Mircalla, begging for her return. For a moment Mircalla considered keeping quiet, staying there in the forest- Laura had spent part of their walk through the forest pointing out everything edible, imparting knowledge of the plants that grew around them between answering her questions about the other humanoid, winged creatures. She could stay, right there, and watch the tree grow. 

But Laura gave her a small, sad smile, and shook her head, as if she knew what she was thinking.

“Walk back along the route we took here,” Laura said, reaching out to take Mircalla’s hand once again, “and you’ll soon be at the path. And come visit me when you can.” 

Leaning up on the tips of her toes, Laura placed a quick kiss to Mircalla’s cheek before she disappeared, her glow fading into the wood as she became one with the tree. 

Her hand cupping the tingling skin, Mircalla couldn’t help the smile as she made her way back to the path, a smile that, even when the maids were fussing over her, berating her for entering the forest alone, refused to fade. 

*

It took her months to convince her parents she should be allowed in the woods again, that she had been perfectly safe and alone. That there had been no one there to harm her, and she had just been looking for beautiful flowers. That, if she was old enough for her parents to begin searching for a suitable husband for her to marry in ten years, she was old enough to be in the forest alone, at least when it wasn’t night. 

Bundled up against the cold and snow, the maids were a lot less enthusiastic about their outing this time, though the mulled wine and the hot pies the cook sent with them kept their muttering to a minimum. When Mircalla stood from their blankets and announced she was going for a walk and would be back before nightfall, they had just asked her to stay away from the lake a while down the road, and, if she could, to stick to the path so they could find her. 

She left the path the moment she was out of their sight, calling softly for Laura as she tried to pick her way back to where the tree had been. For hours she searched, trying to find her friend. 

Mircalla was in tears by the time she finally gave in, accepting that the pixie girl with the warm hands and lips and small sapling had been nothing more than her imagination. Scrubbing her face raw with her mittens to hide that she had been crying, within moments of her returning to the party the basket had been repacked and reloaded into the carriage, the maids and servants glad to be returning to the castle. 

A few fussed over her as she sniffled, scared she had caught a cold, but none pushed it further when she tilted her head and glared.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ever since she was little, Mircalla knew there were pixies in the world. She just never thought she would love one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Ok, so. I know it’s been seven months since I’ve updated this fic, and I really have no excuse, but that will be changing soon! I’ve actually completely finished writing this fic, so it’ll be posted over the next month. I hope you guys all enjoy! :D
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Carmilla.

If Mircalla was to be honest with herself, she had no idea why she had allowed some of the servants to convince her in joining them for a walk through the forest. She had a ball to go to, to get ready for- she was eighteen and this was the perfect chance to present herself as the woman she was to high society.

She might have been willing to spend her mornings playing around when she was younger, still a child, but tonight, if she was picking up on her mother's hints properly, was the night she was supposed to be introduced to her intended, and she couldn't meet him covered in dirt with leaves in her hair.

But somehow they had convinced her to join them. Convinced her to join them in that clearing she had used to play in when she had been younger, to enjoy the sun and fresh air for a while before she was locked away for the hours it would take to prepare.

She had enjoyed the sun, for what it was worth, but the constant chatter had quickly gotten on her nerves, driving her down the path she hadn't walked since she was ten. It was a mindless wander, the noises of the servants and maids quickly fading, leaving only the birds and whispering leaves. An almost silence she could enjoy as she walked down the dappled road, chills running down her arms as the constant change from sun to shadow played with her skin.

She hummed as she walked, an old lullaby her nurse maid had sung her to sleep with, and it wasn't until she found herself pausing at the familiar bend that she stopped to curse herself for being convinced to come.

Even after eight years, she hadn't been able to get the daydream of the little pixie girl out of her head, a fond memory she almost hated herself for.

But even that small bit of self-hatred, for allowing herself to believe such a ridiculous fairytale when she was old enough to know the difference between reality and stories, wasn't enough to keep her on the path this time. For maybe, just maybe, she'd be able to find the tree this time and put everything to rest.

She found herself whispering half remembered words as she walked, her finger tips trailing over wild plants as she named them in between partial lessons on the differences between magical creatures, taunting herself with the stories. If she was smart she would have turned around, rolling her eyes at her younger self and gone back to the maids and servants, pressing down her annoyance with them for the last hour she had before preparations for the ball began.

But still she pressed on, only coming to a halt when, in the middle of a small clearing, a tree almost twice her size appeared to greet her.

"I told you I'd get big one day. Though I was kind of hoping you'd be around more to watch."

"What the-" Turning on her heel, Mircalla almost fell and would have if not for a pair of arms wrapping around her middle, pulling her close into an overly warm body, a warmth that quickly disappeared as she regained her balance. Forcing down the trembling shock she could feel trying to spread through her, Mircalla stared the floating, slightly glowing being in the eye and waited, too stunned to say anything.

"Are you okay, Mircalla," Laura asked, her wings twitching agitatedly as she reached back out towards the other woman before pulling away, torn between where the lines she was allowed to cross were. "I'm sorry I startled you, I was just really happy to see you in the forest again but then I got angry which is why I didn't say anything earlier and I just-"

"You're real," Mircalla interrupted, stepping forward to brush her fingers against Laura's cheek, her hand trembling slightly until Laura steadied it with her own. "I've thought for all these years you were just in my imagination, just a pretty little dream I had when I fell asleep out here once. But you're actually real?"

Much like herself, Laura had grown. While still soft, it was a woman staring back at her, no longer the little girl she had kept a secret memory of for so long. There was just enough of a hint of her to make the connection between past and present clear, just enough to make it clear that yes, this was the same pixie she had met all those years ago, but still it was strange.

As strange as finding out a secret, made up friend actually was real as could be.

"I'm magical, Mircalla," Laura laughed, leaning into the touch, "not mythical. I'm as real as you and my tree are. Which you would have known, if you had ever come back to see me." Her smile quickly faded, an almost wounded look replacing it.

An old hurt, clearly, but still one that stung.

"I did," Mircalla protested, pulling away and settling herself down on a patch of grass the shade of Laura's tree couldn't reach, spreading her skirts out so she was comfortable. "It took me months to make my parents see sense, but I did return. I called for you for hours, until it became too cold for me to continue, but you never came. What else was I supposed to think?"

"Cold," Laura asked, reaching up to scratch at one of her ears- which were pointed at the tip, Mircalla noticed, the detail having missed her before. "Was it perhaps winter when you came to find me?"

"Yes."

"You, Mircalla, are a very silly creature," Laura laughed lowly, shaking her head, her hair falling across her features to partly hide her face. "The whole world sleeps during winter. What makes you think trees are any different? And if the trees sleep, so do the creatures reliant on them."

Her face flushing a brilliant red, Mircalla opened her mouth to respond, to point out that Laura was the first magical creature she had met, and when only part of the world slept- for there were plenty of animals besides humans who spent the winter awake- how was she supposed to know any better?

She opened her mouth to speak, but the sounds of the maids calling her once again forced her to stop, to glance up at the sky and force down the sharp spike of panic as she realized just how late it had gotten. Pushing herself to her feet, Mircalla brushed off the pieces of grass from her dress, holding out a hand to Laura when she was done.

Once again, the warmth surprised her, though only for as long as it took her to draw Laura into a hug, burying her face into Laura's neck as she did so.

"I'll come back tomorrow," Mircalla said softly, relaxing as Laura returned the embrace, holding her friend close. "Tomorrow afternoon, at the latest. And we can continue this then, alright?"

"Sounds like a plan," Laura said, pulling away and tucking one of Mircalla's curls behind her ear. "Make sure you keep this promise this time."

Waving over her shoulder as she pushed her way through the brush, Mircalla smiled and nodded, promising with everything but words that she would.

The entire ball, even as she spent the night dancing in the arms of the suitors she was sure her parents would choose from- nice young men, all of them, ones that would make good, if boring, husbands- Mircalla imagined her return to the forest. Now that she knew Laura was real, that her friend was true instead of just an image left over from a dream, years would have to be made up for. Years of questions and stories, tales that had to be explained and myths clarified, everything she had been keeping in since she had first met the pixie.

All through the night, from foxtrot to waltz, Mircalla imagined the forest.

She only stopped when she stepped out into the night for some fresh air.

*~*

It was four winters before Laura stopped looking for her, stopped waiting for that young woman to return to the forest. Four blistering summers spent begging for rain to keep her tree alive. Four falls and four springs, all spent waiting.

It took four years, but eventually, Laura gave up on Mircalla and moved on.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: And now for chapter 3! :D I hope you guys enjoy it!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Carmilla.

Her parents had had a son, two years after her death. A little brother she had never known, who had lived and died in just one of the centuries she had existed, marrying and having children of his own before she had learned to control her bloodlust. By the time she had learned someone else had continued on her family line, she had gone through dozens of names and them through multiple generations, knowledge of her demise a long lost family fact found in records, not memory.

She'd become partial to the name Carmillla, and, finally, when one of her multiple-great-nephews failed to sire a child on any of his five wives, she had stepped in. Same name, a pretty face, supposedly a distant cousin whose parents had just passed- he had been desperate to continue to line, to keep the vast fortune her family had been able to amass over the years in their accounts. She'd barely had to make the suggestion before the adoption papers had been signed, officially naming her as his heir.

When he and his wife died three years later in a tragic horse riding accident, no one blinked as the money and estate were turned over to her, the only last living Karnstein they could find. A fact Carmilla had made sure of.

Mother and Mattie had driven out her distaste for murder, and when she refused to recognize them as kin? Well, then they were just another meal.

Giving Carmilla her family house back for the first time in over two hundred years, the first time she had been allowed to set foot alone in her home since she had been turned. Before this, Mother had made her stay away, made her wait until every living soul who could have known her for who she was had died so she couldn't be known.

But now she was back, had a permanent home she could spend the years free of her mother between the sacrifice in, and more than enough land to keep her secrets.

The first of which she went to share, hoping almost against hope that the tree was still standing and her friend might be there for her to find.

"Laura," Carmilla called softly as she found the tree- despite how the rest of the world had changed over the years this had stayed the same, the only change the gravel road that had once been a partly dirt path, making it easy for her to find the tree.

It had grown huge in the years, towering high over the competing flora, casting the entire clearing into shade. The trunk was thick, three times as wide as she could wrap her arms around, even the lowest of branches strong enough to hold her weight were she to sit upon them. Every leaf was green, the new growth just waiting to sprout, the almost heartbeat of the tree just out of range for her ear.

It was healthy and alive, so should her friend have been. But Carmilla called and called, waiting for Laura to appear, and nothing.

"If you don't come out soon, buttercup," Carmilla finally said two days later, crossing her arms and huffing as she waited for the pixie to appear, met only with a continued disappointment at the lack of arrival, "I'm going to do something drastic. And I mean it this time."

For days she had been threatening, begging, pleading for the pixie to appear, to return to her. To reshow her that she wasn't just a far off memory, one of the few small lights that had kept her alive in that coffin.

She had come back to keep her promise, which was hard when the person you made a promise to refused to come and meet you.

"I'm serious Laura," Carmilla said again, stepping towards the tree, one of her fangs slipping out and baring itself as she walked. "I'll… I'll bite your tree, and keep biting it until you come talk to me." Partly desperate, partly just tired of the game, Carmilla dug her nails into the soft bark and pulled herself up, up until she reached the closest, thickest branch that would bare her weight. Bearing her teeth, she leaned over the branch, more than ready to tear it apart if it meant forcing the pixie she knew as real to come talk to her.

"Touch my tree," an angry voice hissed behind her, relief flooding through Carmilla as she turned to stare at the small creature, just as perfect as she remembered, "and I'll make you regret coming to my forest."

"There you are." Reaching out to touch her, the smile that had grown on Carmilla's lips at Laura's appearance faded slightly as the pixie moved away, just out of her reach, her glare never lessening as the moments traveled on. "Laura, what-"

"Go away, Mircalla," Laura said, a sad undertone to her rage. Flitting up, she settled herself on a branch above Carmilla's head, leaning over the side to glare down at her. Glare down with misted eyes, Carmilla noticed, though it seemed the pixie was ignoring them. "You broke your promise again. You never came back, and you can't just make a promise and then leave someone like you did. Go away."

"Laura," Carmilla said, standing on her branch, reaching up towards the one above her so she could maneuver her way closer to the pixie. "Laura, it's a lot more complicated than that. If you'll just let me explain-"

"No. Now go away."

Growling under her breath, Carmilla pulled herself higher, almost cursing out the pixie girl as she moved up another few branches, dropping twigs and leaves as she yelled at her to get out of her tree, to go back to wherever she had been for the last who knew how long so she could return to her sleep in peace. All while Carmilla easily scaled the plant, nails growing into claws to help her keep her balance, chasing the little light that refused to stay still long enough to listen.

It wasn't until they reached the top of the tree, Carmilla barely balanced on the thin limbs while Laura floated just a foot out of reach, that they were forced by the lack of anywhere else to go to stop.

"Why won't you just leave," Laura asked, her glow dimming as she watched Carmilla try to keep her balance, arm twisted to keep her hands wrapped around the closest piece of support available. She rubbed at her eyes and shook her head. "Just climb back down and go, Carmilla. Please, before you fall and get hurt."

"Not until you talk to me, Laura," Carmilla said stubbornly, head held high and proud as she shifted her perch, her feet sliding out on one of the longer branches so she was another inch closer to the pixie. "Not until you let me explain."

She was stubborn, and she had already lost her friend once. She wasn't going to do it again, even if normally insane measures had to be taken.

At least the fall wouldn't kill her. Hurt like hell, yes, but it was nowhere near tall enough to actually end her immortal life.

The same immortal life that was the reason why she had had to go, to leave, forced away before she could come explain, an explanation she had to give now. She at least had to make Laura listen, and if she decided after that she wanted her to go, she would. But not before.

"Mircalla," Laura said worriedly, fluttering a few inches closer on her own, hands reaching out as if she would be able to keep her from moving again, her form shifting unsteadily as her emotions tore at her. "Please, just climb down and I'll listen, I promise. But you're going to fall, and from this height, you'll-"

"You'll listen, you promise?" Carmilla interrupted, smirking widely at having gotten her own way- she'd never kept a promise to the pixie before, something she hated herself for, but she had spent the last almost two hundred years learning everything she could about them from Mother and her books, and a promise from a pixie was binding, almost as binding as their connection to their tree. If she could get Laura to say the words, then that would make this whole thing so much easier.

She was glad she had forgone her dresses for men's pants and shirts, otherwise she would never have even considered her next move. But as it was…

"Yes," Laura said, desperate, finally losing control over her form and growing large, her wings beating harder to keep the increased weight steady in the air. "Yes, I promise, I'll listen," Laura said, reaching out so her hands were almost touching Carmilla. "Please, just take my hand and I'll help you climb down and listen to whatever it is you have to say." Wiping at her eyes with her free hand, Laura reached out to gently uncurl Carmilla's hand from the branch, to steady her on her descent so her friend, her so hated, promise breaking, horrible specimen of a human being friend, could be safe.

Carmilla just smiled, baring her fangs so Laura could begin to guess at what she was, and jumped.

"Mircalla!"

Carmilla couldn't help but laugh at Laura's panicked screech, her hand darting out to grab a branch, stopping her fall just for a second before she was forced to let go. The feeling of skin and muscle being torn from her palm by the bark was nowhere near the worse pain she had ever felt, though enough to force out a wince even as she laughed. A laughter that continued even as she reached the ground, stumbling forward a few steps before pulling to a halt, hands cradled against her chest as she waited for Laura to catch up.

Laura did, and the first thing she did was punch Carmilla in the shoulder, her face twisted in rage as she struggled to land, her wing beating furiously with her anger. She was shaking as she tried to put together a sentence, tried to find some way to verbalize her rage, so visibly upset that Carmilla almost regretted her little stunt.

So Carmilla pulled her into a hug, ignoring the sting in her hands and the blood she was getting on Laura's pretty leaf -which, under her touch, felt actually nothing like leaves- gown, instead just focusing on the shaking pixie in her arms to calm her.

It only half worked, because, a few minutes later, Laura was still shaking as she pulled away and asked the question Carmilla had been dreading and waiting for.

"You smell weird. Like…like the rot in autumn, after the leaves have fallen but before snows come. And how are you even here," she finally asked, thoughts clicking into place as she began to count the number of autumns she had seen. "It's been so long, Mircalla. What are you?"

"It's a long story," Carmilla said, moving so she was sitting on the ground against the tree, glad once again for the soft cotton pants she had stolen from one of the men she had made her meal a few weeks ago. Holding her hands up to one of the speckled rays of light, she flinched as she finally took in the sight of her hands- not as bad as they could be, her vampire constitution starting to knit back together the layers of muscle and flesh she had lost, but still bad enough. Blood flowed easily, and she could see multiple splinters that would have to be pulled before the healing finished.

She jumped when Laura sat down next to her, pulling her hands into her lap and examining them herself. Swallowing thickly, Laura placed her hand against Carmilla's, ignoring the blood so their palms were pressed together.

Carmilla hissed at the pulling sensation, but when Laura pulled away the splinters were gone, instead gathered in Laura's hand.

"Even when it's been separated from the whole," Laura explained, doing the same with her other hand before rubbing both of her own on the grass, removing the smears and covering of blood so her skin was once again clean. Glancing at her dress, she forced herself to look up, into the sky, breathing heavily as she avoided the sight of the red.

Now that she thought about it, Carmilla wasn't entirely sure pixies had blood, or were even able to bleed.

"I'm still part of the tree," Laura continued, "and the tree is part of me. It responds when I ask it to."

"Thank you," Carmilla said with a small smile, leaning back against the tree fully, her hands resting in her lap, careful not to move them so they could heal. "That saves me a date with a knife to get them out later."

"What are you, Mircalla?"

"It's Carmilla now," she admitted, "and you better hold on, creampuff. It's a long, bumpy ride."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Chapter 4, here we come! Enjoy! :D
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Carmilla.

It'd been a week since Laura had asked her to leave, a week since she had requested a bit of time and space to fulling absorb and understand the story she had been told, and Carmilla had respected that. For a girl who had never left the forest, who had never been further than a few miles away from her tree, her tale was a strange, dark one- murder and mayhem, trickery and lies, layer after layer of darkness that did nothing to make her look good, only painted her in the light of the monster that she was.

Laura knew death, had seen it a thousand times over in the forest, but nothing like what Carmilla had told her.

So Carmilla understood Laura's desire for a few days alone, a few days to think and process what she had been told. That didn't stop the almost pain that had taken residence in her chest when Laura had asked her to leave and come back in a few days, pain that was only kept at bay by the slight, almost non-existent hope.

The hope that faded as, for the first time in a week, she left her house and went to the forest, down the path, to where Laura was standing, waiting for her, her arms crossed and face blank.

"Carmilla," Laura said as the vampire came to a halt before her, careful to keep her face from showing any emotion. "You came back. After your last few promises, I wasn't sure you would."

"You said give you a few days," Carmilla said, swallowing hard around the lump in her throat, trying to keep the panic down- if Laura asked her to leave, she would, but the thought of losing the pixie for good, just when it seemed they could finally be friends, hurt. "It's been a few days."

Moments dragged on, Carmilla trying to keep herself still as she watched Laura, waiting for some sign that said she was either welcome or unwanted. Something to let her know where she stood, so she could react properly.

The wide smile finally came, with Laura opening her arms for a hug, a gesture Carmilla quickly took her up on.

"Welcome home," Laura said softly in her ear, holding her as close as she could, Carmilla quickly blinking away the tears that were threatening to fall.

*~*

It became almost a routine- Carmilla showing up at sunset or shortly after, more often than not wiping the remains of her latest meal from her lips before settling at the base of Laura's tree, smirking as Laura, the poor thing still trying to get used to staying up all night, yawned and fanned herself with her wings to keep herself awake. Laura would settle in next to Carmilla, their shoulders brushing as they tried to find some comfortable middle ground between leaning against the tree and each other, eventually settling down for their meeting.

Carmilla would then pull out a map, the first thing Laura had asked her to bring to the forest, and Laura would choose a new place to hear about.

The stories were never nice- the only thing about her life, when she was sitting next to the pixie, that Carmilla regretted. Intertwined with the descriptions of the cultures and people, of the cities and ruins and villages Carmilla had visited over the years she had traveled, was death and destruction, the few memorable meals she had eaten shared. The story of Saigon with her sister Mattie, of the tourists they had hunted in the ruins of Pompeii, of the sacrifices she had helped her mother gather for Silas- Carmilla did nothing to hide her nature in her tales.

What good would it be to do so? They had forever together, and to hide who she was did nothing for either of them.

But still Laura asked for more, withholding her judgement if there was any, constantly hungry for the world outside her little woods.

So Carmilla told her, told her about the Kings and Emperors she had met, the halls she had danced in, the places she had hunted. When the weather permitted she brought a notebook and ink, drawing as best as she could the images she was trying paint with her words. Images Laura spent hours poring over, her glow bright enough in the night to light the pages enough to see. And, occasionally, when Carmilla was tired of remembering, she brought books and spent the night reading, teaching Laura a letter or two here or there to keep her awake when the plot began to drag.

She would never see the world, would never be able to go more than a few miles away from her tree, so Laura took everything about the world Carmilla would give her and constructed her own version of it.

And in return Laura told her everything. Together the two of them spent hours looking at grass and vines and flowers, Laura naming every single one of them and their properties, slowly unraveling the floral language all creatures of the forest spoke. More often than not Carmilla left with her head spinning, trying to keep straight the meanings of alliums and amaryllis and anthuriums and how those meanings changed when combined with other flowers, too many for her to even begin to count.

And when the moon was bright enough for them to travel without Carmilla misplacing a step and breaking an ankle, Laura took her to the other spots in the forest where magic lived- where fairies danced upon the petals she was trying to memorize, where water sprites splashed in the rivers, where creatures she couldn't even begin to name lived and died and had their lives, creatures no human had ever seen before.

She even took her to see Daddy, the giant central tree around which everything else in the forest revolved, where the pixie that had blown life into the tree Laura had been born from rested within his tree.

He rarely awoke, Laura told her, except when it was time for him to sire another child, but still he was her father and she loved him.

And more often than not, when Carmilla could be sure the morning would be covered with clouds so she wouldn't begin to burn before returning to her home, the two of them fell asleep cradled in the limbs of Laura's tree, Carmilla cradled within the fork of two large branches, large enough to fit three of her without risk of falling, while Laura rested small on her chest, where she could hear the slow beating of her heart.

Carmilla would only awake when the sun became strong enough to start to sting, moving just enough to get Laura settled in the crook before sliding down and making her way home to sleep and eat and bathe before night could set again.

For years they kept that routine, only changing when winter fell and Laura was forced to sleep. Then, Carmilla left, hiring a few servants to keep watch over her house for the months she was gone, left to travel the world and find new stories to tell her friend.

She often met up with Mattie then, somewhere warm and luxurious, where her sister could show off the latest fashions she had bought and they could have some fun, chasing down and draining some of the lowlifes in whatever city Matska had chosen to call home for the few months winter existed.

It was nice, having a friend who was also her sister, bound by bond if not blood. Even if the first thing Mattie had done was smell her and start to tease her on the magical creature she had started dating.

Carmilla had tried to protest, had tried to maintain that they were just friends, but Matska had given her that look that froze her tongue behind her teeth, letting her know it was useless. Even though they were just friends (a fact that might or might not have made Carmilla's heart ache slightly, though she refused to think about why that might be), Mattie would never change her mind now that she had set it.

She was just like any other older sister in that way- too stubborn and pigheaded to keep herself out of her younger sibling's dating life and too worldly to admit she might be wrong about it.

"She smells nothing like a mortal," Mattie had explained when Carmilla had asked how she knew Laura ("Ahh, a name! I was wondering how long it'd take me to get one out of you") wasn't human. "Creatures outside the realm of mortals always smell different, something much earthier than a human could ever manage- if you weren't covered in her scent, you would have picked it up as well. That, and you smell like you've spent the last year camping in a forest. Put two and two together, kitten, and it just makes sense. Now, what kind of creature has finally captured the eye of my little sister and made her settle down?"

If Mattie hadn't already been dead, Carmilla was half sure she would have laughed herself to death when she finally revealed Laura was a pixie, a tiny little wood sprite tied to a tree, the same tree Carmilla had been spending her days asleep in and her nights under.

"A pixie, darling, really?" Mattie had finally asked after wiping away the tears from her eyes, picking back up the wineglass she had put down earlier to avoid dropping it as her body shook. "Mother might actually approve- someone immortal who can't possibly get in the way of her plans, who has a little bit of magic all of her own and knowledge of nature that far surpasses any others, mortal or not? I do have to say, brava."

"I'd prefer," Carmilla said quietly, her eyes never leaving the glass of blood she was slowly twirling, "if Mother never found out about her. Or at least not for a very long while. After what happened the last time she thought I fell in love with someone…"

Neither sister had to finish the sentence- they were allowed their dalliances, given whatever they wanted so long as those desires didn't conflict with her overall commands. But never had one of them been allowed someone permanent, and the last time Carmilla had wanted one, a little waif of a girl who had caught and held her eye for more than the few months most girls did, Mother had had her drained and strung up by her intestines.

Even though they weren't dating, even though they were just friends, the idea of something like that happening to Laura sent her heart into a tizzy, almost making it hard to breathe the air she really didn't need.

"Of course, darling," Mattie reassured her, reaching out to put her hand on Carmilla's knee, gently patting it to show her support. "Mother might never know from me, though if you keep her, she will find out eventually. But not from me."

It was only a few moments later that they shook off the somber mood and Mattie returned to her needling, asking for all sorts of details about Laura despite Carmilla's claim that nothing was there.

Though when next spring came and Carmilla returned to the forest, waiting through those last few days of winter to be there when Laura woke up, a little piece of her pointed out that perhaps there was something there, even if she didn't want to admit it. Because Laura's smile when she caught sight of Carmilla standing there at the base of her tree was enough to send Carmilla's long dead heart stuttering, something no one else had managed to do without the cause being fear.

Perhaps, Carmilla would later admit to herself, after they were settled under the tree, Laura curled into Carmilla's side with her head resting against her chest to listen as she told the stories of where she had been for the last three months Laura had been asleep, there was a little something there. Because the feeling of being home, which had been missing for the months she had been gone, that hadn't arrived until Laura had materialized outside of her trunk and stepping into Carmilla's arms, had to mean something.

She hated herself for it, but Carmilla had to admit she had fallen in love, and had been in love with the pixie for who knows how long, a fact she would make sure Laura never knew.

Because Laura was Laura, and she was herself, and it would never be meant to be.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Chapter 5, here we come! :D
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Carmilla.

Even with her realization, nothing really changed, something Carmilla was more than grateful for. Every night she made the treck out to meet Laura, they sat and shared their stories, and when it became too late for Laura to stay awake any longer, Carmilla climbed up to her perch and slept, cradling the pixie as she did so. A routine they used to pass the days, blissfully unaware of the world outside of their little own.

It was hard to keep things the same, though it was a struggle Carmilla willingly endured. When she longed to hold on tighter she let go; when she wanted to speak the words that began filling her mind and forcing her tongue to stumble in the middle of the stories surrounding the constellations she forced herself to continue to story instead; when she wanted nothing more than to press her lips against Laura’s and see if, for a second, she could still the hummingbird heart beating in the pixie’s chest, she didn’t. Carmilla, for the first time since she was turned, forced herself to be good. To be a good person and not taint the only pure thing in her life.

Which made everything that much worse when, three years after she had had the revelation herself, Laura kissed her upon her arrival at the tree- a quick peck, nothing more, but a peck that killed her thoughts even as it sent her undead heart racing with a new life she hadn’t thought possible. And Laura’s shy blush did nothing to help anything, nor did the constant twitching of her wings, for every movement they made just sent another small burst of air towards Carmilla, filling her senses with nothing but the smell of Laura (she had noticed it so many times after Matska had pointed it out, had forced herself to ignore it every single time, but she smelt of the earth and sun and goodness and light, everything Carmilla loved that she couldn’t ignore).

They didn’t cuddle that night, nor did they talk, instead taking separate books from the number Carmilla had brought with her with the intension of reading out loud for the pixie. Even with her night vision, Carmilla stayed close- not enough to touch, despite the itching desire in her fingertips to close the distance between them, but close enough that Laura’s glow, which wavered more and more as the night went on, made the words on the book readable. The tension between them was almost visible, a force they tried to ignore as they forced their eyes to skim the words on the page.

The moon had barely completed its rise when Carmilla finally stood, forcing herself up so she could leave and stop the continuing damage she could feel. A few days away, to let the lingering whatever it was between them fade, and then she could return. She could hunt, could write a letter to Mother or Matska or even William if she became desperate, just anything to keep her mind off of the pixie woman while she let things fix themselves.

Because Carmilla was sure if she stayed, there would be no going back, no fixing what had been broken that night, and she couldn’t stand the idea of that. So she stood, gathered her things, and began to walk away.

Only to be stopped when Laura reached out, the tips of her fingers brushing against the back of Carmilla’s hand- the lightest of touch, but enough to freeze Carmilla where she stood, the tingling of her skin as inhibiting as any paralytic or spell.

“There’s another difference between pixies and fairies I never told you, Carmilla.”

“Oh?” Despite her desire to flee, Carm couldn’t help the spike in her curiosity- Laura had finished her lesson on the more common magical creatures long ago, and nothing she had ever said had hinted that she had left something out. And in her decades of research, Carmilla had though she had found everything- all Laura had said had matched up with the written word she had found, if only for the most part (she took the pixie’s word over the books, of course, but the books were compelling in their own way).

She wanted to run, but she wanted to know more.

“Yes.” Laura continued, standing from her spot beneath the tree and stepping forward, so she was almost blocking Carmilla. Reaching out, she gently took Carmilla’s hand, loosely intertwining their fingers- a chain as good as steel, for there was no way she would be able to pull away now. “Pixies, much like humans- and vampires- are only aware of their own feelings, for the most part. They can be and often are oblivious, unless the signs are obvious, which they aren’t always. But fairies, due to their lack of connection, are much better at those sorts of things. Their magic reacts to emotions much stronger than mine does, both theirs and others, and they can sense things when those things are hidden from others.”

Carmilla knew where this was going, and with every word Laura spoke her desire to run only grew. This couldn’t be happening, she had spent the last three years trying to avoid this, this couldn’t be happening-

But it was, and if Laura was aware of the inward panic squeezing Carmilla’s useless lungs, she didn’t make that awareness known. She just kept speaking instead, her thumb dragging swirls across Carmilla’s skin as she spoke.

“A while ago, two summers and two springs but before the second fall ago, a group of fairies came to me, shortly after you had left. They felt…well, they knew…” Her words trailing off, Laura reached out with her free hand and forced Carmilla to look at her, forced her eyes to rise from the ground to meet Laura’s gaze instead as she finally got to the point.

“They said you loved me, Carmilla Karnstein, but refused to say anything to me. Why?”

“Because you’re you,” Carmilla said softly, her voice cracking as she spoke, each word that wasn’t a denial only adding confirmation to what Laura already knew, “and I’m me. And who could wish for the blood and darkness, all I’ve ever given you, when the sun is in your grasp?”

“Because in the darkness you’ve brought more to me than any sun ever could, Carm,” Laura said, stepping forward to close that space between them, her head resting against Carmilla’s shoulder as she dropped Carm’s hand, instead wrapping both of her own around her waist. “You’ve brought me the world and became my own, more than any sun could ever do.”

“We’d never work, Laura,” Carmilla said slowly, her arms hanging limp at her side, her body stiff- if she let herself melt, let herself envelope the pixie woman holding onto her, she wouldn’t be able to let go.

“We would have forever to make it.”

“No, we wouldn’t. Because forever can’t start when it’s already doomed.”

Slowly Carmilla backed away, her hands finally rising to rest upon Laura’s shoulders, keeping the pixie still while she increase the distance between them. Shrugging off the bag of books, Carmilla placed them at Laura’s feet- one last gift- and ran.

*~*

She only left the manor to eat, to hunt down whatever criminals walked the streets of the city closest to her home. Otherwise she stayed in the darkness, curtains closed, doors locked, every precaution taken to resist returning to the forest that took over her back yard. Even the stars were lost to her, their simple glow enough to bring to mind a softer one, one that washed over her when she told their stories to the smiling face that waited for the words to come.

When she hunted she never looked up, never looked down for fear of catching sight of a weed that would break her resolve, never took her eye off of her prey lest she return to the forest and ruin what waited for her there.

Winter finally arriving was almost a blessing, the blanket of snow covering everything green and guaranteeing she was asleep finally giving her the freedom she had been missing for months. Mattie’s invitation to join her was well received, and within the day Carmilla had packed and plotted out her route.

She thought, for a single moment, about selling the place, the house and the forest, so she could never be tempted to return. Matska wouldn’t complain about her staying for a longer while; it would be like old times once more. But the thought was quickly forgotten- in the three hundred years since she had been turned, the world, as much as she ignored it, had changed. If she didn’t keep the land it would be destroyed, that fact was clear. And if she allowed that to happen?

She was already dead, but to allow that would truly end her.

So instead she did what she always did- she hired some servants to care for the house and repair the neglect she had allowed to happen over the year and left to her sister’s. The journey was short, Mattie having decided to set up for the winter somewhere actually close. By the time Carmilla arrived there, she felt better than she had in months.

The moment Mattie saw her, she just opened her arms for a hug, and it was all Carmilla could do to keep herself from snotting all over the expensive fabric of Matska’s dress as she began to sob.

Being with Mattie helped, her sister pulling her out each night for some inconspicuous fun in one of the three cities that were within distance of Matska’s cottage, both of them transforming, she into her panther form, Mattie into her falcon, for the hour’s travel it took to get to each. But the travel was worth it- so many people, so many bodies, all crammed together one on top of each other, all wrapped up in the technology the late twentieth century had brought. No one noticed when a few people disappeared, no one questioned their drinks in the clubs Mattie dragged her into, and if any of the girls Carmilla danced or slept with that winter noticed anything off about her, they never said.

By the time spring came around and Mother sent for her, so she could help with the newest picking of sacrifices for the pit, Carmilla didn’t have to worry, like she had for summons past. When before she had scrubbed her things in bleach, ruining most of them to destroy the traces of the pixie so her mother could never find her, this time Laura’s scent had all but faded from her things, and by the time Mother dismissed her four years later, Carmilla couldn’t even remember what it had been.

~~A lie, the worse lie Carmilla had ever told herself, but she forced herself to believe it. Because you couldn’t long for something you couldn’t remember in the first place. She told herself the lie and, when Mother ordered her back to the manor to await the next sacrifice, she went easily. The manor was just a manor, the forest was just a forest, and none of it meant anything to her. Another lie, but one she kept repeating and would until it became true.~~

*~*

The last four years of lies and preparation fell away to nothing when she saw her, shaking and pale and clutching a broken branch from her tree like it was her lifeline, standing on her porch and waiting. Immediately she knew something was wrong- they had talked about it so many times, how the manor was too far away for her to ever see, how attempting a trip like that would make her sick, if not kill her. How it would be impossible in every shape and form for Laura to ever see the house Carmilla waited in when she wasn’t at home with her in the forest.

But there Laura was, sick and in obvious pain, waiting for her on her front porch, smiling as Carmilla came into view.

A smile that fell away as the broken branch fell from between her fingers and her glow, already barely noticeable, went out as Laura collapsed into her arms.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Chapter 6, chapter 6, it’s time it’s time for chapter 6! :D
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Carmilla.

It was a week before Laura opened her eyes again, a week Carmilla barely moved from her spot below the tree except to hunt: fast, hurried meals just so she could return to Laura's side as quickly as possible. A week Carmilla spent praying to deities she no longer believed in, but who she hoped still might hear her and help.

But a week lying in the grass below her tree, her head resting in Carmilla's lap, did the pixie some good. By day three her glow had returned and with it her warmth, her skin going from frighteningly cold to almost hot- a relief. By day five she looked as if she was just sleeping, as if she hadn't been about ready to step into the other realm for her self-sacrificing foolishness. And by day seven her eyes fluttered open, her voice cracking the slightest bit as she looked up at her and whispered "Carm?"

She kissed her then, again and again, tears wetting both of their cheeks as she whispered thanks to everything she could think of for Laura being alive.

Then she cursed herself as she listened to why Laura almost hadn't been.

"I was trying to find you." The words were simple, lacked accusation or blame, but still they punched Carmilla in the chest, almost more painful than the scar that lingered there from her human life. "I couldn't lose you, couldn't let how things had ended be it. So…" Gesturing up towards her tree, the plant she had barely paid attention to the entire week, Carmilla gasped as she finally took in its state.

"So I began to tear them off."

What had once been thick foliage was now sparse, hundreds, if not thousands, of wounds marring the bark where once healthy limbs had grown. Only the thickest remained, and even they hadn't gone untouched. Nail marks lined their bases, showing where Laura had been thwarted when she had tried to tear them down to complete her fool hearted mission.

"The bigger the branches, the longer they last," Laura said slowly, as if the explanation didn't truly make sense to even her. "The connection to the tree is weak, and it hurts, but if I take part of it with me, then I can leave. And I did. Carm…" Her voice was breathy as Laura turned to fully look at her, her eyes glazed as she spoke. "Carm, I saw the city. It was everything I ever could have imagined, exactly as you told me it would be. But I could never stay long."

"Because of the branches?" Carmilla asked, pushing herself to her feet, reaching up so she could examine the closest wound on the bark. It was clearly one of the earliest- the bark had already reformed, different from what she remembered, darker, like a true scar on skin, while others further up still blazed angrily against the bark, open and weeping sap. But it had healed, just like the others would in time.

Time Carmilla would spend making sure it didn't happen again.

"The longer they were separate, the harder it became to stay, the more painful it was to be away," Laura explained, pushing herself up to stand next to Carmilla. Her touch against the tree was gentle, loving…almost regretful, though her words and everything else was not. "But I had to find you, Carm. I had to bring you back, tell you how sorry I was, for everything." With her free hand she reached between them and took Carmilla's, intertwining their fingers into a loose hold Carmilla could easily break, if she wanted to.

She didn't, and only squeezed that much tighter.

"Eventually I found the people who were working for you, taking care of your house, but they didn't know anything, other than you had hired them to go to the manor once a month to clean and make sure no one else had taken up residence. They didn't know where you were or how to contact you, just that you'd be back soon, eventually. Maybe. So I began to wait at your home."

"And almost died because of it," Carmilla reprimanded, shaking her head.

"It was the last branch I could break," Laura said with a shrug. "It was the last time I would be able to try and find you. I had to stay until you came back."

"I'm back now," Carmilla said softly, "and I'm planning on staying. I promise."

"Promise?"

Carmilla didn't speak- instead she pulled Laura into a messy kiss, smiling widely as the pixie returned it, her wings fluttering hard enough to bring Laura up to eye level when they finally parted.

"Laura?"

"Yes?"

"What did the humans think of your wings?"

"Apparently there's something called cosplay, and no one thought a thing."

Carmilla just laughed and kissed Laura again.

*~*

They only got ten years before things begin to fall apart, ten years of blissful ignorance of what awaited them at the quickly coming end.

Ten years of quiet simplicity- their lives didn't change much, after their confession, only adding to it. The routine was still much the same: hurried meals as night began to fall, stories told from memories and stories told from the books Carmilla picked up at the library, curling into each other in the limbs of the tree as they slept. That all stayed the same, now that Carmilla had come back, had returned to the forest. But sentences were often broken by kisses, simple touches that stilled her tongue into a stuttering mess as Carmilla tried to pick up the plot of her tale, only to fail as Laura kissed her again. Laura stayed big when they slept- big enough for Carmilla to hold, keeping her pressed against her, a solid form Carmilla could spend the night never losing, even in her sleep.

Each year winter came with promises to be there when Laura woke up, soothing words as the cold drew Laura closer and closer to sleep. Winter was spent, just like always, with Matska- who teased her as she fidgeted throughout the cold months, waiting desperately for the first day of spring. And when that day came, when the first sweet, warm breezes appeared to ruffle the barren branches, promising the return of life, Carmilla was there, ready and waiting, as Laura once again awoke and stepped into her arms for a kiss.

For ten years they continued that cycle, blissful and in love. For ten years, they had everything.

Until, one summer's eve, Carmilla entered Laura's clearing, only to find someone else standing there, waiting for her, casually talking to Laura without a single care in the world.

It could have been winter, for how Carmilla froze, her heart stilling in her chest as her skin went cold, everything within her beginning to tremble as Mother turned to smile at her, her features only illuminated by the light of Laura's glow.

"There you are, my dearest Mircalla," Lilita said softly- it could have been a roar, for how Carmilla flinched. It was one thing to see her mother at Silas, or those occasional times she turned up at Mattie's with William in tow for a little 'family get together.' Then it was safe, for the most part; smile, give her a hug, ignore the dread building in her chest until Lilita, like always, got bored with her children's presence and left to find something to play with or dismissed them to complete her own tasks.

Then she was far away from Laura, far away from the one bit of light Carmilla had in her life, and it was ok because Laura was safe. But here she was, standing there, smiling, looking for all the world like a cat that had just caught a live mouse in its paws.

It took everything within Carmilla not to flee, not to tear off one of Laura's branches, grab the pixie girl and just run, as far and as fast as she could. It took everything within her to nod pleasantly at her mother and force herself to take a few more steps forward, the look on her face as neutral as she could make it.

"Mother," Carmilla said, looking up at the woman. "I didn't know you were coming."

"Of course you didn't, darling," Lilita said with a small wave of her hand, as if her surprise visit was inconsequential. "I didn't tell you I was." Slowly, Lilita began to walk around the clearing, as if to examine the little patch of land that had become Carmilla's whole world, though her eyes never left the two of them, especially when Carmilla took those last few steps to close the distance between her and Laura. The small smile that had been present the entire exchange shifted ever so slightly, from polite to amused, sending Carmilla that last step so her side was fully pressed protectively against Laura's, her own gaze never leaving her mother's.

It was a standoff, one both of them knew who would lose, but still one Carmilla tried to hold.

Until Lilita took that single step closer, that single step closer to them, to Laura, and Carmilla flinched back, her eyes dropping to the ground in submission.

"Please, Mother," Carmilla said softly, hoping, praying to anyone who might be listening, that this would work. "Please, she's not a threat. Not to you, not to us- just, please, let her be. I'll leave her, if that's what you want," Carmilla added desperately, ignoring the pained sound of protest from Laura as she lifted her head to meet her mother's gaze once again- pleading for her to listen, not out of defiance. "Just please, Mother, let her live."

"Oh, Carmilla," Lilita said, her voice soft, almost hovering between reassuring and disappointed, "why would I ever hurt the one girl you've fallen in love with that I actually approve of?" She laughed at the look that crossed Carmilla's face, shaking her head ever so slightly. "Stone cannot love flesh, my darling, shinning girl, but wood?" Glancing over Carmilla's shoulder at Laura, Lilita gave an almost lovely smile. "Having a pixie in the family might actually be useful. And the fact that she can't leave her little tree, and you can't leave her? Well, it'll help with finding you- I know exactly where you'll be, instead of having to send your brother or sister halfway across the planet to find you again. Why would I ever hurt someone who was so useful?"

There was silence for a few moments, silence as Carmilla tried to figure out if her mother was lying or not, if she was playing her or not, but there was nothing. No indication that something was off, just Lilita's wide smile and a gleam in her eyes as they reflected Laura's soft, shimmering light.

Carmilla didn't trust her, didn't trust her a single bit, but she smiled and forced herself to relax. This would be a long game to play, a long life of trying to walk whatever line her mother would eventually lay before her, but for now, it was ok. For now, for this one second, Carmilla trusted that her mother wouldn't attack, at least not right then and there, and so relaxed and smiled.

"Thank you, Mother."

"There's no need to thank me, darling," Lilita said, reaching forward and cupping Carmilla's face. Leaning forward, she placed a kiss on her forehead- and almost smirked when she felt Carmilla flinch ever so slightly, though when she pulled away there was no sign of the girl's distress. Stepping around her, her hand on Carmilla's shoulder to keep her still, Lilita did the same to Laura, patting her softly on the cheek before rising once again. "You take care of my little high priestess, would you," she asked, nodding towards the stone still woman in question. "I know my little Carmilla has a talent for getting into trouble. And I would hate for her to get into some around you."

She didn't wait for any kind of response, didn't even look back as she turned and walked almost silently from Laura's glade. It wasn't until she was almost gone that she turned and smiled, a smile that bared her teeth to the two watching women, before she finally disappeared fully into the night.

She fell. Her legs unable to support her, her entire body shivering as she clung to Laura, trying to hold her tighter and tighter with each passing moment, Carmilla fell to the ground, only Laura's surprised reactions enough to keep her from hitting with any real impact.

Mother knew. Mother knew about Laura, and there was no way they could run, no way they could hide, nothing she could do to make sure Laura never fell into her hands. All they could do was wait, wait and see what Lilita would do, and hope it wasn't anything harmful. Hope it wasn't anything fatal.

Laura held onto her as she shook, as she fought to control herself, as she tried to fight off the sobs she could feel building in her chest at the single fact that _Mother knew_.

Mother knew, and it wouldn't end well. It never did, and all Carmilla could do was hold onto Laura as tightly as she held onto her.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Chapter 7 for all you lovely people! :D
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Carmilla.

The forest, the land itself, was dying. And with it, Laura and the fairies and every other piece of magic that had come to exist over the thousands of years the forest had lived and grown in that world. It was dying, some kind of poison or disease or dark magic that Carmilla had spent the last decade trying to figure out, but she just didn't know. All she knew was that Laura, their home, were dying, and it was all Mother's fault.

Nothing happened at first, those first couple of years after Lilita found out. Carmilla waited for it, watched for it, almost worried herself sick as she tried to figure out what her mother's plan would be, but there was nothing.

When she left to hunt, she barely tasted her meal for worry of Laura, expecting to return home to find her tree destroyed, chopped down and turned into kindling, Laura gone from the world. She expected some of her mother's goons to appear with axes and chainsaws and fire at every moment, expected some death demon to rise from the ground and attempt to drag Laura into the underworld, expected her to have found some way to disembowel a pixie while still keeping it alive, reenacting the last torture she had put her previous girlfriend through.

She expected everything and anything and was just waiting for it to all happen, but it never did.

She almost thought it wouldn't, that it would all be okay. She would get to keep the woman she loved, get to live a quiet little life when her mother wasn't calling her to Silas for the sacrifices, that she could finally be at peace. At peace and loved and with something permanent to accompany her into eternity.

Carmilla almost believed this. She let herself believe it, let her guard down, let Laura's soothing words and reassurances that she couldn't get in between Lilita and her plans so she was no threat calm her. Let herself relax into Laura's kisses, let herself thread her hands into Laura's hair and pull her closer to her, let herself melt into the branches of the tree as easily as she melted into Laura's arms and just _forget_. Forget about the mess of the world that existed outside of their glade.

She let herself believe, let herself hope, and when, a few years later, Lilita called her to Silas, Carmilla went willing. Went willingly to show she was not a threat to Lilita's plan, went willing to show that Laura would not stop her from serving, went willing to show that nothing would change except just how happy she was.

And it seemed ok. Those first couple of days of that first year were actually almost pleasant. Lilita was pleased to see her- asked about her life with Laura, seemed genuinely interested in the answer she gave, and had a soft smile when she sent her on her way. As if she was happy for her child, happy that her daughter had found someone she approved of to spend the rest of her life with. As if everything was going to be ok.

And for four years it stayed like this. Carmilla integrated herself into the college life, showing up in classes and at parties, flirting her way into people's hearts and friend groups, though for once not bedding every soft body that came her way (not when she had one waiting for her at home, someone soft and warm and smelling like the sun and wood and the winds that blew through the forest). And when the time came, it was easy to get the five- all too easy, since they all trusted her, wanted her, were more than willing to follow her into the abyss that would lead to the pit they would happily go dancing over the side of.

It was easy to comply, easy to work for Mother, easy to play her part as the little High Priestess Mother had always wanted her to be. This time without protest, this time without a fight, this time without fighting to save any of the special ones, because none of them were anywhere near special enough to compare to _her_.

It was easy, because she believed it would help.

But when she got home, when she returned to the forest and Laura, it was _wrong_.

She could smell the death and decay long before she saw it, brought to her on the winds as a warning, speeding her on that much quicker to get home and see what had gone wrong. She prayed as she ran- prayed it was nothing, just perhaps a wind from the city, where rotting garbage always left the sour taste of rot in her mouth, prayed to any god that still had some hope for her that she would find nothing wrong.

There was so little left. So little left of the world she had called home for so long. The grass was dead and brittle under her feet despite the soft spring they had had. Flowers had wilted before they had bloomed, falling to the ground to rot where they should have thrived. The rivers, what was left of them, had faded almost entirely, leaving an almost black sludge of permanent mud where once clear water had freely flown.

And the trees. Every tree she saw was dead, dried and shriveled and weeping some disgusting puss where branches had broken and fallen to the ground, leaving nothing left but the smell and sight of death.

She found Laura holding on, just barely keeping herself alive through the strength of her magic, barely holding back whatever had destroyed the rest of the woods. Barely able to lift her head from where it rested on a root, though her smile, weak and pained and barely a smile at all, was bright when Carmilla came to her.

It started shortly after she left, killing the flora and fauna that lived at the end of the woods, slowly creeping in closer and closer destroying all who lived permanently in its way. They tried; all of the citizens of the forest tried, so hard, to stop it, but nothing had worked. Nothing had worked to drive away the taint, nothing had worked to save them, all of their magic had been useless to beat back whatever had been killing them.

Even Father had woken up, had tried to destroy that which threatened his home, his daughter, and even he had fallen. Fallen and failed and been left nothing more than a dead log where once he had stood tall and proud and strong. There had briefly been mushrooms and mold and insects, covering his remains, but even those had died, their normally purifying act of breaking down that which had come from the forest to return it to the forest halted by their own deaths.

Laura had held on. She had held on, just long enough, to say goodbye.

It wasn't hard to find a spell of preservation, not after the hundreds of years Carmilla had spent by Lilita's side, watching her gather together magic from this world and the next and combine them a hundred different ways. Not for her little High Priestess, her glittering girl, not for Carmilla. It was easy to find, easy to cast, hard to speak, for every word she said broke her heart a little bit more.

It was almost like she was asleep, if Carmilla ignored her lack of breathing, ignored the fact that the grass around her never moved, never shifted, never changed even as summer slide into fall into winter, the snow blanketing everything else except for the little patch of warmth her spell had maintained. It was easy, so very very easy, to pretend she was taking a nap, and when she woke up, everything would be fine. It would be fine and okay and nothing would be wrong.

But it was, because Laura was the last of the forest, the last to live because of her temporary spell, and if she didn't find something soon, she would be lost as well.

There was _nothing_.

For months she searched- searched through the internet, searched through entire libraries, found and hunted down the leading scientists and magicians and everyone else who could possibly help, all to get some kind of answer that would. She searched and she threatened and she begged, going so far as to show up at Silas itself. Show up and fall to her knees before her mother and beg, beg for a cure, a counter spell, something that save and spare Laura's life. She could live with the loss of the rest of the forest, could spend the rest of her life replanting and bringing back the magic that had thrived there before, so long as she had Laura.

Her mother just shook her head and sent her away, reminding her that, much like stone outlived flesh, so did it outlive wood and always would. And she would do well to remember that in the future.

There was nothing she could do. No one she could pray to, not potion she could make, no magical cure that would bring Laura back from the brink of death her spell had frozen her at. There was nothing.

Nothing, until she went to Mattie to say goodbye. Because if she couldn't save Laura, couldn't bring her back, then she would at least go with her.

"I had a husband, once," Mattie said softly, after she had heard what Carmilla had to say and dried her cheeks of the tears that had fallen. "He was badly wounded when Maman found us. I begged her anything to save him. This was thousands of years ago, when Maman was softer, a bit kinder, and searching for someone to become her first child. She gave him back to me, turned me, let us spend the rest of his days together. And when he finally passed, old and gray and wrinkled, Maman gave me this." She held out her locket, letting the trinket sway back and forward before Carmilla, who stared as if the decoration could give her the answer she needed.

"I put my heart in here," Mattie continued, her own eyes unfocused as she stared into the distance, "to protect myself from the pain of ever having to fall in love again. It hurt. More than I can ever say, but the pain of losing him hurt more than losing my heart ever did. And so long as my heart, my source of life, is here, I can survive. And maybe you will too."

She went on after that, mentioning a witch who could give her the potions, mentioned a jewelry maker who could create something, a ring or a necklace or a bracelet (for metal held as long as stone and was perfect for a heart) of her design to keep it in, and how she would be there to help her through the process Carmilla needed. Went on about how Carmilla wouldn't have to be alone like she had been, and how the process would be painful, yes, tearing out your heart always was, but after? The pain would be bearable in comparison to keeping it after it had been broken.

Mattie continued on to say all of these things, but Carmilla barely heard, and wouldn't have cared if she had. Because listening to Mattie, hearing her speak, remembering the tale she had told, Carmilla had a thought.

It was crazy, a bit harebrained, an insane little scheme that would either work or lead her to die, but she would try it nonetheless. Because there was no after if she lost Laura, there was no removing her heart to get rid of the pain, there was nothing but the sweet nothing of death if this didn't work.

But part of her thought, almost for sure, that it might. Because if you can put a heart in a locket and keep it alive, who's to say you couldn't put a heart inside another heart and do the exact same?


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: And now we finish up with chapter 8! I hope you all had fun with this! I know that I did! :3
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Carmilla.

It took another year- another spring missed watching the flowers bloom, another summer missed spending the nights watching the fireflies blink, another autumn missed watching the leaves turn and fall- to get things ready, to prepare for her crazy solution. It took everything she had- almost cleaning out her family's fortune, selling almost all of the land (for what little it was worth, with it clearly dead), clearing out the house of almost every family heirloom she had kept and gathered for the last hundred years to whatever collectors wanted them. It took hiking across mountains and hiking through forests, searching every crevice she could to find the herbs and potion makers she needed to create what she desired.

But she did. She did, and as the first warmth of spring melted the snow from the land around Laura's clearing, Carmilla lifted the preservation spell she had put upon it and lifted Laura into her arms, pressing her cheek against the top of Laura's head as she awoke pressed against her.

"Do you trust me," Carmilla asked softly, when Laura's heart had reawakened, its beat disturbingly slow, her movements sluggish, her mind finally catching up with the events that had brought them here, to this moment. "Laura, do you trust me?"

It took her a few moments, a few moments to realize she was being spoken to, a few moments to respond, but, slowly, Laura did. A single nod, her head barely moving where it was resting against Carmilla's shoulder, and a soft, whispered, almost desperate "Yes."

She drank the potion easily, draining the vial desperately when Carmilla held it to her lips, the pinkish purple fluid disappearing in moments. She drank it, drank it with the trust she had put in Carmilla clearly showing-

And started to scream, scream and scream and _scream_ , clawing at her chest as her heart began to burn, as the tree behind them started to smolder and smoke and _burn_ , the beginning of the flames started by the potion within her reaching out through her connection to destroy the very thing that had kept her alive.

Just like Carmilla had wanted, just like she had planned, for the burning rotten wood was easier to dig her claws into, easier to pull apart, easier to tear from what remained of the trunk as Carmilla began to dig for Laura's heart. Dug for her heart, splinters piercing her skin, the smoldering coals burning her flesh, the tree itself seeming to try and lash out against her as she tried to reach the exact center of the tree, the middle ring, the slight sliver the woman she had bought the potion from had told her about, told her to look for and remove.

It was still slightly green. When the rest of the wood had turned black from rot and charring and death, that single little sliver still remained green, glowing with the same light Laura herself had given off all this time.

Gritting her teeth against the pain, forcing back the sob that filled her throat as Laura's scream's grew louder, stronger, more pained and more agonized and more everything that Carmilla had never wanted for her, Carmilla wrapped her claws around the little green sliver and _pulled_.

She stopped. As the little bit of green came free, Laura just stopped. Stopped screaming, stopped sobbing, stopped clawing at her heart as she tried to pull it out through her chest, stopped everything and fell. Fell to the ground, limp and glassy eyed and dead, the last little bit of glow disappearing from her corpse as Carmilla held her heart in her hands.

The potion was sweet on her tongue, but not in any way she could stand. It was sweet like the smell of rot, the sweetness of death, the sweetness she had been scrambling to avoid for the last couple hundred years. Her body tried to reject it, the bile rising in her throat even as she forced it down, almost choking on the liquid as it tried to escape her throat and take residence in her lungs. But she drank it, Carmilla drank every single drop, only her sheer strength of will keeping it in her stomach instead of spilling it upon the forest floor.

It numbed her, numbed her hands and her feet and her skin, numbed the pain from her limbs and the pain that existed everywhere else, and, most importantly, numbed her chest as she dug her claws into her skin and tore. Tore and ripped and shredded through the skin and muscle, breaking through the bones of her ribs to do exactly as Mattie had explained, exposing her heart to the world that had tried so hard to break it.

She had heard the legends. She had lived them, existed within the world as a vampire over twenty times longer than she had lived as a human, and she knew. She knew and she understood and she had realized so long ago exactly what she was risking. But if this worked then they had a chance, and if it didn't?

If it didn't, at least she would go with Laura.

She was glad she was numbed, glad she had drunk the potion that made this almost painless. She could no longer feel the burning tree behind her, the entire being in flames now that Laura was dead and no longer able to protect it. She couldn't feel the air caressing her heart, exposed as it was to the world. And except for the slightest of pinches as she pushed it in, she could barely feel the wooden splinter that was Laura's heart as she slid it into her own.

And when she fell, numb and glassy eyed and unaware of the world around her, Carmilla couldn't feel herself hit the ground, couldn't feel the prickling of the dead grass against her cheek or the stickiness of the dirt from her blood. She couldn't feel anything at all.

*~*

"Carmilla?"

Laura's voice was soft, almost hesitant, but strong, so much stronger than it had been since this whole thing began. Her hands still quivered, still trembled, but her grip was strong as she shook Carmilla's shoulder, trying to bring her back to life, back to consciousness of the world around them.

She succeeded, and Carmilla's eyes fluttered open as she gasped in pain, her hands scrambling to press against the healing but still torn skin that covered her chest, the bones shifting back into place as her body returned itself to her original condition.

It burned, nowhere near as badly as it could have, the last bit of potion that had originally numbed her keeping it from getting bad, from impairing her ability to think or move, because even if it had, she wouldn't have been able to stop. Wouldn't have been able to keep herself still or obey the pain to stop moving as she pushed herself upwards, wrapping her arms around Laura and pulling her close, both of them ignoring the blood and grime that covered Carmilla to just hold on tight. Hold on tight and refuse to let go, both of them trembling and sobbing as they held each other close, covering each other's lips and cheeks and foreheads with messy kisses that confirmed they were there and well and just simply _alive_.

Because they were. It had worked, and even though Laura's tree, the thing she had been tied to for hundreds of years, was ashes behind them, and even though Carmilla's chest felt heavy and hurt from having been torn open so her heart could be stabbed with a sliver of wood, they were alive and they were together. And would be, for no harm could come to Laura without harm first coming to Carmilla, something the potion maker had promised, and so long as Carmilla lived and thrived and existed as Laura's new source, so too would the pixie.

It had worked, and they had forever to keep it working.

*~*

Her smell changed.

Before, Laura had smelt like the forest, the trees and the wind and the grass and the sunlight on hot stones, the smell of everything Carmilla had come to love over the years. Love and cherish and crave more than anything else in the world. But it changed, ever so slightly- it grew old, an almost sense of dusk mixing together with everything that was Laura. The trees right after they had fallen, before the rot had truly begun to set in; the wind right after it had died down, leaving behind the slightest lingering afterthought; the grass mid-way through fall, when it had begun to dry as the season fully changed; the sun heated stones hours after sunset, when most of the warmth had bled away into the air and the animals that had come to steal from them.

Not that she cared, for everything could have changed about Laura and Carmilla wouldn't have cared. Because Laura was still Laura, no matter what, and Carmilla was just glad she was alive.

But nothing else changed. Her wings still fluttered behind her as she walked, lifting her to her toes every few steps as she resisted the urge to fly. She stilled glowed, lighting up the night with her soft yellow light, a beacon in the darkness. And she still smiled, even when she had to stand there, unable to be too far away from Carmilla much like she had been unable to be too far away from her tree, and watch as Carmilla fed, as she killed, as she showed her just how much of a monster she truly was, Laura still smiled and held her and kissed her red-tinged lips.

And she still slept in Carmilla's arms, only this time inside their new home, inside the manor, the first place Carmilla had taken her the moment they could stand and breathe and think about more than the fact that they were actually alive. Alive and well and breathing, and would stay that way forever.


End file.
